


Yuputka

by KivaEmber



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Blood, Cannibalism, Character Death, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Gore, Murder Mystery, Psychological Horror, Supernatural Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the arrival of the new transfer student, Yamato Hotsuin, their school is plagued by demons and no one can leave. As the week goes by, students are being killed, sanity is wearing thin, food is running out, and to survive, Hiro finds himself in a sadistic contract with the enigmatic Yamato.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Ronaldo breathed slowly as they made their way up the winding path towards the Hotsuin estate. He was anxious about the upcoming confrontation – there would be a confrontation, there always was when the Hotsuin were involved – and he had to fight the urge to pat his gun holster just to make sure the weapon was there. They should have sent more officers in his opinion, but he supposed a four man team would be enough.

About half an hour ago, an emergency call from the Hotsuin estate had been made. It had been stated that there had been ‘strange noises’ before the call ended after only ten seconds, but it was policy to investigate interrupted or ‘bizarre’ emergency calls like that – that and Ronaldo had practically chomped through the bit pushing to be the one to go despite being a detective. The Hotsuin had been a thorn in his side ever since that young girl…

But he shouldn’t think that now. If Ronaldo revealed his bias when dealing with them this time, he would be suspended from the force, as his superior had threatened the last time he had tried to bring that disgusting family to justice.

The Hotsuin estate existed outside of the city, up in the forest and was inaccessible by car. The path was uphill, twisting in a maze-like fashion around trees and rock. There was always a hazy mist, enough so that most people avoided the place – not that they would be in such a remote area anyway. There were mutterings of it being cursed, and they were half right. The Hotsuin family were a curse, a plague, protected by their money and influence.

Ronaldo will break open their rotten shield tonight…!

“Hey,” one of the officers, Akasaka, frowned and pointed ahead. “I think that’s it.”

Out of the gloom, the Hotsuin estate came into view. It was a large building that looked similar to a Shinto shrine, with a great Torii of weathered wood, the paint long since stripped by the constant mist in the area. The entire building was dark, and silent, and under the pale moonlight, it looked abandoned.

Ronaldo and the officers paused, briefly unsure. There was a heavy feeling in the air, one of complete foreboding. Ronaldo felt this air in crime scenes, ones where great tragedies occurred. His hand drifted down to his holster, but he clenched his fingers before he touched it and stormed ahead.

He climbed the stone steps past the Torii, and marched right up to the great sliding doors – only to pause. The wooden door was partially open, and – he leaned down slightly, hearing the footsteps of the officers stepping onto the wooden porch. There, smeared on the edge of the door was a dark, reddish brown stain, in the form of a-

Ronaldo immediately straightened up and pulled out his gun, holding it low to the ground. “There’s blood,” he muttered lowly, and he heard the rustle of movement as the other officers copied his motion. Now that he was focusing, Ronaldo could smell that cloying smell of blood, heightened by the humidity in the air. There was also a stench like spilt guts – a smell that Ronaldo was unfortunately far too familiar with in his line of profession.

Quietly, Ronaldo nudged the sliding door open. It groaned softly, but other than that was silent. He stepped inside the building, the hallway dark. There were shoes by the doorway, mostly boots that would be better suited to farmers or labourers, and a pair of geta that looked to be for a child. Ronaldo vaguely remembered there being a son, although he wasn’t aware of how old he was, he was still very young.

He saw him once, during that case – very fragile, pale and dull-eyed, and had responded to Ronaldo’s questions in flat, monosyllabic replies. It was like the life had been sucked out of him.

Another victim to the Hotsuin family.

They moved deeper, and Ronaldo nudged open a door leading into what he assumed to be a living room. Immediately the smell of guts hit him like a physical wave, and he heard one of the officers behind him retch in surprise. He held his breath, his stomach rolling a little, but the nausea passed quickly and he stepped inside.

The moonlight was streaming through the window, lighting everything up in a dim, silvery glow. There, Ronaldo could see a rather slim, petite figure, sitting calmly in the middle of the room. Their back was to the doorway, and Ronaldo could see the bare skin – no clothes at all – splattered and smeared with blood. It was even in their hair which was shaggy and up to the shoulders.

Ronaldo flexed his fingers around his gun uncertainly, his eyes flickering about the room. The moonlight didn’t extend that far into the room, but he could see shapeless lumps in the darkness. He stepped towards the still figure, his boots squelching in the thick puddles on the wooden floor.

“…you took too long,” the figure suddenly spoke. It was a male’s voice, very young and unbroken, and barely above a soft whisper.

“Are you the one who made the emergency call?” Ronaldo asked calmly, glancing behind him to see that only one of the officers were there – it was the oldest one, his face lined with stress than age, his lips pressed into a thin line as he took in the room. The other two were young - probably had never seen a scene like this before. Most likely they had stepped outside so they wouldn’t contaminate the scene with their vomit.

“Yes,” the figure said calmly. Slowly, he uncoiled from his position on the floor, rising to his feet. Ronaldo tracked the movement closely, but kept the gun lowered to the floor.

The figure turned and – it was the son, the fragile, pale-skinned son with dull eyes. He looked exactly the same as Ronaldo remembered him two years ago, just a bit taller. He was stripped completely naked, and almost every inch of his skin was splattered with blood.

Silvery eyes glinted eerily, reflecting the moonlight.

“Are you the son of Masaru Hotsuin?” Ronaldo asked, somehow managing to keep the even tone. The boy – he was a boy, very small and young looking, probably just entering his teens – was staring at him blankly, as if he didn’t quite comprehend the question. Shock, perhaps?

“…yes,” he said. The boy, the son, looked down at himself suddenly, holding out his arms. Blood was dripping from his fingers. “Ah, when did this…”

“Are you injured?” Ronaldo was close enough to touch him, but he didn’t, his eyes scanning for any injuries beneath the blood. He couldn’t see very clearly in this dim light.

“…” The boy’s lips moved soundlessly for a moment, and he looked up; not at Ronaldo but at the ceiling, his eyes moving to the side as if reading something up there. “I- oh, the…they didn’t…”

Deeming the boy to be in shock, Ronaldo holstered his gun and glanced behind him. The officer there nodded and moved deeper into the room, past Ronaldo and the Hotsuin, to inspect the other rooms for hostiles. Ronaldo shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around the boy’s thin shoulders, trying to give him some decency.

“You’re safe now,” Ronaldo told him soothingly, gently starting to direct the boy out of the room. The other two officers arrived at the doorway, one pale and the other disgruntled looking – their expressions quickly turning into surprise at the sight of the boy.

“All clear!” a voice resounded through the house. No hostiles were there currently, then.

“Call an ambulance and back up,” Ronaldo ordered the pale-faced officer. He wouldn’t be any use if he kept puking from the smell and sights. He scampered to obey, he would also have to run back to the police car as well, and Ronaldo simply directed the Hotsuin to stand in the hallway instead of outside in the cold mist.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Ronaldo asked. The boy was simply staring at the wall with a terrifyingly blank expression. “Anything at all will do. I’m certain you’re in shock-”

“They’re dead,” The Hotsuin interrupted. His voice was very calm. “They all died. You won’t find any of the family left alive.”

Ronaldo was quiet for a moment. “…I see. Could you tell us who did it? A description or…?”

“No,” the boy said, and it was like everything in him shut down. He turned away from Ronaldo, slowly sat down on the floor, and tugged the jacket around him, his dull eyes sliding closed. “Please stop talking, I’m tired…”

“Remain awake,” Ronaldo ordered. Perhaps the boy  _was_  injured. He couldn’t have him going to sleep if that was the case.

The boy did not reply, but his eyes opened. “Yes, I should. If I sleep, he will…” he didn’t finish the sentence.

In fact, he didn’t say another word that entire night.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, did you hear~” Daichi was leaning heavily on Hiro’s shoulders, grinning widely. “There’s a transfer student today! I heard someone saying it’s a really pretty girl!”

Hiro laughed uneasily, mostly focused on his (incomplete) English homework. It was pretty damn hard to write when his friend was practically crushing him towards his paper. “Um, cool. Daichi, I’m trying to finish this…”

“Aren’t you listening? There’s a cute girl coming to our class – from out of town too, from the city! She’ll need a tour guide to show her around the place…” Daichi was smiling, obviously imagining the scenario of leading about a pretty city girl around the town. It was well known that girls from the cities were fashionable, pretty women.

Hiro fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I bet almost every boy will be offering too. You better grab a stick to beat off your competitors.”

Daichi froze. “Crap! I didn’t think of that!”

Hiro took the distraction to elbow Daichi away, straightening up when his friend wheezed and staggered off him. “Anyway, you don’t even know what she’s like. She could be really mean for all you know, or boring.”

“Ow…” Daichi rubbed his stomach. “That really hurt, man…”

Hiro opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted when the door opened to submit their homeroom teacher. Hiro hurriedly shoved his unfinished homework into his bag and straightened up, Daichi slinking off to his own seat behind him. Murmurs erupted when someone else walked into the classroom behind their teacher – a young, pale haired looking…boy?

“Wow, he looks so young!”

“Who’s that?”

“No idea…”

“Settle down class,” their teacher, Ms. Itou, said. She was a pretty teacher, not even thirty, and was usually the first crush of many of her male students. “As you can see, we have a new transfer student. His name is Yamato Hotsuin, and he is a very intelligent young man – he’s skipped three grades.”

Fresh whispers erupted at that. Three grades? Didn’t that mean he was like, _fourteen_?!

Hiro peered at the transfer student. He did look fourteen, perhaps even younger. It was probably because he was so thin and fragile looking, with very pale colouring – he had Japanese features but, he also looked to have Caucasian blood in him as well. In any case, his circumstances and appearance was enough to spark interest in the class.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself, Hotsuin?” Ms. Itou asked gently, smiling at the young teen.

Yamato’s grey eyes swept over the class, his expression void of emotion. Hiro shivered when those eyes landed on him briefly, feeling a chill crawl over him. Something about that boy…it made Hiro think of a black hole, something that sucked up all the light and warmth nearby.

“I am Yamato Hotsuin. I am aged fourteen, and I used to live in Kyoto,” Yamato said after a long pause – his words were polite, but his tone was simply… _flat_. No inflection at all. It looked like the introduction was going to end there, but after a moment of hesitance something sparked in those grey eyes and a small smile curled his lips.

Hiro heard a group of girls giggle somewhere behind him, and a loud whisper of ‘ _cute_!’

“I am also a devout worshipper of the Dragon Stream,” Yamato said, and there was a sudden hush. Even the teacher looked a bit bemused.

“Erhm,” Ms. Itou recovered valiantly, a few students laughing uncertainly. That must’ve been a bad joke, right? “That’s…very good, Hotsuin! Please, take a seat beside…oh, Kageyama – him with the blue eyes.”   

Yamato strode away, his grey eyes meeting Hiro’s briefly before looking away. The boy was no longer sporting that smile when he said his weird joke. His expression was flat, and his eyes dull. There was something unnerving about him.

Hah…probably…probably nothing…

“Please treat him kindly,” Ms. Itou said, smiling at the class. “It is a bit disorientating to move to the countryside after living in the city, isn’t it? Now then, onto announcements…”

“Man, I thought it was a girl…” Daichi groaned somewhere behind Hiro. “This is so lame…”

Yamato must’ve heard that, but he didn’t move. He sat in his seat like he had suddenly turned into a statue, staring at the front of the class with an eerie focus, his body stiff and unmovable. It was only the rise and fall of his chest that even signalled him as alive – otherwise he could’ve been mistaken for a delicate, porcelain doll.

Grey eyes flashed over at Hiro suddenly, snagging his gaze. Hiro jolted slightly in surprise, but didn’t look away, and for a long moment they simply stared at each other.

Yamato’s expression tightened suddenly as if in pain, and he looked away, a hand pressing against his stomach, fingers clutching at his shirt. Hiro blinked rapidly, feeling a bit dizzy for some reason, but shook off the light-headedness as he watched Yamato attentively – ready to ask if something was wrong.

After a few minutes Yamato straightened up and was back to imitating a statue, his expression clear of any pain that had been there earlier.

Weird…

Hiro looked at Ms. Itou reluctantly, the hairs on the back of his neck rising uncomfortably. He was getting a weird vibe from this kid, but…maybe it was just his strange first impression. He was probably just some normal, socially awkward kid with a weird sense of humour.

But stealing a glance at Yamato from the corner of his eye, Hiro wasn’t so sure. Yamato was smiling now – no, smirking, as if enjoying some private, inside joke.

Hiro shivered.

That smile…

It gave him chills.


	2. Game Start

“Looks like a storm’s gonna roll in,” Daichi grumbled around his mouthful of rice, his head tilted upwards towards the dark sky. There was a smell of ozone hanging about, and the wind carried a wet chill to it that foretold the coming rain. Hiro merely hummed in response, chasing around stray pieces of chicken in his ekiben.

“Want to come round to mine later, then?” Hiro asked, picking up the shred of chicken between his disposable chopsticks and lifting it to his mouth.

“Yeah. I was going to go to Shibuya for some shopping, but, guess not,” Daichi turned to Hiro, reaching out with his chopsticks. “Hey, hey, can you gimme some? I only had vegetables-”

“Wha- if you wanted something meaty you could’ve bought your own at the train station!”

“I wouldn’t’ve been able to eat my own then! My mum’ll kill me if I leave even a single grain of rice untouched…!”

“I said- GAH!  _DAICHI_!”

As they squabbled over Hiro’s ekiben, spilling bits of rice and chicken on each other, the sky gave a low, warning rumble. They paused, glancing up at the black, angry clouds grumbling overhead, and reluctantly put a pause to their game.

“Guess we better go in. It’s getting cold out here, anyway,” Hiro sighed, carefully placing the lid back onto his ekiben and slotting it into his bag. Shouldering it, he rose to his feet and brushed off the sticky grains of rice from his clothes, his friend doing the same.

“So did you finish that English homework?” Daichi asked as they left the roof, making their way down the stairwell. They still had fifteen minutes of lunch left, so they felt like they could dawdle a little on their way back to class.

“I half-assed it. Let me guess, you didn’t do it either?”

“I did! I just, well, you’re better at English than me since, you know, you can  _speak_  it…” Daichi huffed. “So I was just thinking you could look over it for me, you know, as a friend.”

Hiro tutted teasingly, sliding his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Ehhhh? Isn’t that kind of  _cheating_ , Daichi? Asking a fluent speaker to do your work for you~?”

“H-Hey! It’s not cheating! It’s, uh, utilising my resources properly! Right?”

Hiro simply smiled – and tightened his arm around Daichi’s shoulders, abruptly pulling him down into a headlock. His friend squawked and flailed, and they staggered down a few steps of the stairs, in danger of slipping and falling down them. Hiro just laughed, grinding his knuckles down  _hard_  into Daichi’s scalp.

“Argh! Owww! Hiro! You bastard! Gerroff!” Daichi howled, trying and failing to wriggle free of the headlock. Hiro just laughed – only to yelp when his friend kicked him in the ankle and sent them both falling down the last few steps onto the corridor floor below. Karma repaid Hiro by having him cushion Daichi’s fall, and an elbow driving hard into his gut.

“Ow…” Hiro groaned, thoroughly winded as he shoved Daichi off of him. “Fucking hell…”

“Ugh, you deserved that,” Daichi grumbled back, pushing himself up onto his knees as he rubbed the top of his head. “That really hurt, prick. Hope I ruptured your spleen.”

“I think you did,” Hiro half-laughed, remaining sprawled out on his back, one hand rubbing his poor, aching stomach. “Lucky I didn’t throw up on your for that. Ouch. Ew. Ick.”

“Ick, indeed. That’s gross, Hiro.”

A low growl from outside interrupted them, and Hiro pushed himself up on his elbows as the school trembled a little, the fluorescent lights above flickering. The rumbling stopped after a few seconds, but the lights cut out immediately, plunging the hallway into a dim darkness, the only light coming through the windows – but even that was dull from the dark clouds outside.

“Mm? Was that an earthquake?” Hiro asked, immediately getting to his feet. “Weird, didn’t seem bad enough for the lights to go out.”

“Lightning strike?” Daichi offered, standing up as well. They stared up at the ceiling for a moment longer, both of them frowning, before shrugging it off. Blackouts happened before, and it didn’t stop classes from happening. They continued down the dimly lit hallway, idly chatting about the English homework (which Hiro spent explaining the your/you’re, they’re/their/there rules).

It was when they were passing the library that they ran into the first piece of weirdness of the day: the new transfer student, Yamato Hotsuin.

Hiro was somewhat neutral towards Yamato. Ever since that weird first day, the transfer student had established himself to be a very quiet presence. He would answer if you asked him questions, but they would be short, lifeless replies, with barely any flicker of emotion in his tone or expression. It disturbed many of the students, and it disturbed Hiro as well – but he just wondered what could’ve caused such a thing. Nobody was born like that, right? There must be a reason as to why he was so…empty…

Upon spotting Yamato in the corridor – he was standing beside the library doors simply staring out of the window – Daichi paused and skittered uncertainly. For some reason his friend was extremely anxious around the other boy, only saying that he gave him ‘bad vibes’. Daichi’s instincts were normally good, but, really, he was just a creepy fourteen year old.

Hiro elbowed him, making him continue on. They were simply going to walk past Yamato, but the transfer student abruptly turned towards them with a suddenness that made them both jump in surprise. Grey eyes zeroed in on Hiro instantly, and that dizzying sensation filled his head again, like it did when they first locked gazes on that day.

Yamato’s expression tightened briefly, as if in pain, before it smoothed out. He didn’t look away.

“Good morning,” the younger boy said, his lips curving into a little grin. His canines were quite sharp, Hiro realised then.

“U-Uh, it’s, past one…” Daichi spoke up uneasily.

Yamato ignored him. “Are you making your way to class?”

“Yeah…” Hiro said, managing to smile back despite the woozy feeling assaulting him.

“I’ll accompany you. It’s dangerous to go alone now.”

Hiro and Daichi exchanged looks. Yamato was prone to saying very strange, off the wall comments, like worshipping the Dragon Stream, but this was more than strange. A low growl rumbled outside again, lightning flashing and lighting up the dark hallway, and Hiro swore he saw something dart past the window outside.

“Uh-”

“Let’s go,” Yamato ordered, turning on his heel and walking down the hallway. Hiro and Daichi looked uneasily at each other again, but followed after a pause.  

Hiro’s head felt clearer now that Yamato wasn’t looking at him anymore, and he lifted a hand to rub his forehead with a small grimace. The hallway echoed oddly with their footsteps, but Hiro didn’t dare to break the tense silence with conversation. Something…wasn’t feeling right.

They reached the flight of stairs at the end of the hallway that would lead down directly to the language block of the school – when a sudden, high pitched scream rent the air. Hiro and Daichi jumped, but Yamato simply paused, tilting his head with an amused expression.

“Oh. Looks like it happened.”

“W-Wha- stop saying weird things!” Daichi stammered. “That came from downstairs-!”

“It did,” Yamato agreed calmly. He started to descend them, as if all was right in the world. There were shouts coming from downstairs now, all of them panicked or sounding terrified. Heart pounding, Hiro followed after Yamato with a feeling of heavy dread, Daichi on his heels.

At the bottom of the stairs was a large crowd of people, huddled around the top of the next flight of stairs leading to the ground floor. They were all students, but there were a few standing apart from the crowd, consoling a hysterical girl who was stammering wildly past her heaving sobs.

“-a-and it, it just, I-I couldn’t-!” Hiro heard the girl sob, his fingers raking and tugging through her long, dishevelled hair. “T-Then it just, it went, and, and Miki-!”

“Hey, what happened?” Daichi asked one of the closest students. It was Jungo, one of the older students who spoke little, but was a gentle giant. His expression was grim, and he looked morosely at the crying girl before answering.

“…Miki died.”

“W-Whoa?! What?!” Daichi squawked. “You saying- a student’s dead?! Dude, where are the  _teachers_?! How’d she die?!”

Jungo just shook his head quietly, and Hiro turned to Yamato. The young transfer student was standing away from them, staring up at the ceiling with an absent look, utterly calm despite this piece of information. No, he looked  _bored_.

“Yamato?” Hiro asked softly, and the grey eyes snapped to him immediately.

“…let’s have a look,” Yamato said, smiling again. He strode forwards, easily pushing through the agitated crowd despite his small, frail looking body. Hiro was on his heels, leaving Daichi with Jungo as they pushed their way to the front of the crowd.

At the bottom of the stairs was Miki. She had been an older student, with beautiful long, black hair, and always on top of the latest fashion. Hiro only knew her faintly, having spoken to her whenever they were doing group work in class, but she was a very vain person. Nice, but vain.

Her hair was lopped off, long strands of it scattered about the floor around her, soaking into a large sticky pool of red. Her face was visible, her eyes wide and pink lips parted, smears of blood dribbling out of her open mouth. There was a sick line of red opened on her throat, the front of her uniform ripped open to reveal clawed open skin. In the dim light, the details weren’t clear, but Hiro swore he could see the gleam of bone past ruined flesh, splatters of blood spilled all over the floor as well as the bottom stairs and the  _walls_.

It looked like she’d been mauled by a wild animal.

“How messy,” Yamato commented beside him. Grey eyes were staring down at the girl with an expression of disdain. “From the front as well, so she must have seen her attacker. Did she even try to escape? Her friend survived, hahah, perhaps she had been the shield…?”

Hiro was too stunned by the sight to demand what the  _hell_  was wrong with Yamato to speak so glibly about this, this  _horrible_  event. He turned away, thoroughly sickened, and pushed back through the crowd. The students were no longer looking, and were instead milling about in a buzz of barely suppressed panic. Where were the teachers? How did this happen? Was the creature that attacked Miki still around…?

“Hiro!” Daichi called when Hiro returned to him. “I-Is it true? Is Miki-?”

Hiro nodded solemnly, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat. “Y-Yeah. It’s…she looked like she was mauled to death.”

“Seriously? Like, by an animal?” Daichi looked even more anxious, looking about them. They were at the end of the hallway, with stairs leading up, and stairs leading down, with the hallway stretching out to the classrooms. There were multiple ways for a wild animal to ambush a student in here.

“How… _how_?! I mean, we heard a scream, but, I didn’t hear any animal noises too!” Daichi abruptly blurted. “How the hell did a wild animal get in here anyway?!”

Hiro shrugged, frowning in thought. The wounds – he shuddered at remembering – the wounds looked like it had been made by an animal with large claws. It wasn’t something a feral dog could have done. It looked like, a lion, or something…

Wait-

“You said it was dangerous to walk on our own,” Hiro said suddenly, turning to Yamato. The young transfer student was smirking at him.

“I did. And it was true, wasn’t it?”

“How did you know?” Hiro demanded. “Did you know there was a creature on the loose?”

Yamato tilted his head, lifting a hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. He chuckled softly, the noise making hairs rise on the back of Hiro’s neck. “Of course I knew. How else could I deliver such a warning? But, let me tell you something, Hiro, since I like you. There are bigger things to worry about than a feral animal.”

“What-”

“What is the meaning of this?” A loud voice suddenly shouted. Everyone jumped, and the crowd of students parted to submit Makoto Sako – the P.E instructor of the school. She was wearing a dark, leather jacket over her white sports shirt and skin tight athletic tights down to her knees.

“Mrs. Sako!” one student cried, the one consoling the hysterical girl. “Aiko said that Miki had been attacked by a wild animal – and, she’s-!”

“What?” Makoto’s voice turned sharp, and she turned towards the stairs. Everyone was shouting at once now, the panic in the air rising, and even Hiro himself was beginning to feel agitated. The mood was turning bad fast, even with the arrival of an adult.

But Makoto’s face was like stone, even when looking down the stairs at poor Miki. She turned abruptly, taking in a deep breath. “…please evacuate to the main hall immediately – go to any and all classrooms and inform everyone you meet, teachers or students, to obey. I will take care of the situation and call the proper authorities. Please move in groups! Do not move about alone!”

The students immediately broke off into groups, some of them running down the hallway at breakneck speed. Hiro just started walking, letting the crowd pull him along, with Daichi, Jungo, and Yamato following him.

“This is insane,” Daichi muttered under his breath. Jungo was silent, although his expression was faintly upset. It was almost like looking at a kicked puppy.

“Hopefully, it’ll be cleared up…” Hiro said, trying to stay positive. “Mrs. Sako will call animal control or something – maybe we’ll go home. Probably a bad idea to stay in the school without electricity anyway.”

“Yeah…”

Yamato didn’t say a word, but from the corner of his eye, Hiro could see his expression very clearly. He looked excited about something, as if he had gotten his hands on a brand new, interesting game. Why wasn’t he scared? Or worried? Or…anything?

How did he know what was going to happen…?


End file.
